Out of Sight 1
by Lisa12
Summary: This is a smallville/ x files crossover! A chance meeting 18 years ago is relived as Smallville gains two new residents / Monica and John find new lives post-Truth. Please R/R and let me know if I should continue! :)
1. Default Chapter

Title: Out of Sight - THIS IS A SMALLVILLE / X FILES CROSSOVER Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville nor X Files, or any of the characters or plots originally associated with either show. Rating: Summary: A chance meeting 18 years ago is relived as Smallville gains two new residents / Monica and John find new lives post-Truth A/N: I've seen Mystic Pizza, and so I know what Annabeth looked like at my current age, and I can easily assume what she would have looked like pre- Mystic Pizza, but for the sake of argument, let's say I'm making it all up from scratch :D  
  
1984  
  
"That'll be two-ten."  
  
Martha wasn't paying too much attention to the conversation occurring beside her as she sipped a cup of coffee and pretended to read the legal brief in front of her. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be doing this kind of work. The only reason she was here was because he was paying her. It was his last resort, she knew, to try to convince her that the law held her future. Martha knew that it didn't, and that it probably never would. Ordinarily she may have found certain aspects of the law intriguing. A part of her realised that yes, she could be a lawyer, and a good one, if only her heart were in it. Yet if her heart wasn't in it in Metropolis, it wasn't going to be in it in Texas. Austin, no less - a working holiday, her father called it. Even though he was there with her, working, so it wasn't much of a holiday. She sighed, looking over the attached settlement.  
  
"Honey, you're short ten."  
  
"Oh, um, I'm sorry. Just a second." Martha turned her head immediately. She hadn't noticed the girl beside her when she'd ordered just a few minutes ago, however now that she had, she realised how young she sounded. Martha looked the girl over as she dug in her bag for the extra change. She was slim, her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She seemed a little rough around the edges. The jeans were creased and so was the white shirt visible under the black jacket. She wasn't so tall, but Martha assumed she was tall for her age.  
  
"You got it or not sweetie?" The girl hesitated and Martha immediately reached down for her purse in her bag, pulling out a ten-cent coin.  
  
"Here-" she stated simply, sliding it across the counter to the waitress. The girl looked over at her, eyes wide, and it was only then that Martha realised how young she looked. She had light olive skin, hazel to brown eyes. Her skin was clear, if not slightly oily. The waitress had accepted the change as payment and slid the coffee towards her as she turned back to the counter. Martha went back to her brief after realising the girl was probably too shy to say anything.  
  
"Thankyou," came a sudden response. Martha smiled, not looking up.  
  
"It's okay-"  
  
"No. Thankyou." Martha looked over at her then, and saw her watching her. "I really thought I had enough."  
  
"It's probably in the bottom of your bag-" She glanced down and realised the girl had a small backpack that looked as though it were about to fall apart.  
  
"It won't be," she sighed. "I guess it's a sign."  
  
"A...sign?" Martha asked. The girl nodded.  
  
"Yeah. A sign. Anyway, thankyou again." She picked up the paper cup and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you later." Martha smiled at the expression.  
  
"See you," she replied. After the girl left Martha turned back to her work and caught the waitress' eye.  
  
"Poor girl," she said.  
  
"Why?" Martha asked, folding the manilla folder.  
  
"Been in here the last couple of days. Always just a coffee. Don't think she can afford much else. Looks like a runaway to me, not that it's any of my business." Martha nodded.  
  
"No, it's probably not. Nor is it mine," she stated, packing up her things. "Listen, do you work here every day?"  
  
"Yeah. Why?" Martha handed her a twenty.  
  
"Next time she comes in, let her have a...doughnut or something. Keep the change."  
  
"How do you know I'll do it?" A smile immediately struck Martha's lips.  
  
"I prefer to believe in people," she stated for the first time.  
  
"Yeah, all right," the waitress managed, curious, as Martha packed up and left.  
  
*  
  
"Martha do you have the contracts drafted?"  
  
"Uh, not yet dad." She heard her father walk into her hotel room.  
  
"The clients are waiting."  
  
"Don't you mean you're waiting? The clients have waited ten years for this settlement. Five minutes won't kill them."  
  
"You know Mr Laguna's dying of lung cancer. Maybe it will."  
  
"That's real funny dad." She scribbled a couple more notes down on a legal pad and handed it to him, smiling. "Here you go."  
  
"Thanks honey. Listen, it really is a great profession."  
  
"It doesn't interest me, dad."  
  
"And what, the stock market does?"  
  
"Yeah," Martha replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"What about the boy?" Martha smirked.  
  
"Pete?"  
  
"No, God Martha you've known Peter for seven years. He's no threat-"  
  
"I'll tell him that," she mumbled.  
  
"I mean the other boy. The farm boy."  
  
"Jonathan? What about him?"  
  
"What are his plans?"  
  
"He's home working on the farm at the moment, dad. Don't worry, I'll finish my degree. He understands."  
  
"Does he? I just don't want to see you wasting your life and being pressured into anything-"  
  
"Dad, for your information, I'm the one that came onto him. He hasn't pressured me at all. All right? Now, won't your clients be waiting for their contract? You better get started on editing."  
  
*  
  
Martha was sitting on the curb outside the hotel as the sun set, watching the sky turn a sweet orange-pink. She smiled, sitting for several more minutes before heading to the payphone across the street. She put a dollar in the meter and dialled out, waiting for it to pick up.  
  
"Kent." Martha smiled.  
  
"Hey, it's me."  
  
"How's Texas? Meet any cowboys?" Martha laughed.  
  
"I don't think so. You never know though, they look like ordinarily people."  
  
"You mean...Cowboys and serial killers are one and the same?"  
  
"Guess so. We should pass that onto MPD."  
  
"Hey, it could come in handy next time the killer leaves his horse at the scene."  
  
"How's the farm?"  
  
"Good. We got rain this morning. Everything looks much greener-"  
  
"Already?"  
  
"No, but it seems much greener because everyone's stopped complaining about how brown the land is. How much longer are you there for?"  
  
"Uh...couple of days maybe. I really want to get back to MU."  
  
"It's summer break, Martha."  
  
"I know but anything has to be better than this."  
  
"You could come visit me?"  
  
"I don't think your population would appreciate that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Jonathan, the last time I rang you, you said that Nell's friends had basically put up a picket line down the main street so you couldn't get anywhere without answering some serious relationship questions. You're telling me that's all gone now?"  
  
"Uh...maybe it's not safe for you here, yet."  
  
"Mm, that'd be right. Half the population of Smallville will hate me, the other won't even make an effort because I'm under 21 and can't legally drink yet." Jonathan chuckled.  
  
"Not that far off. Listen I'll let you go. I miss you."  
  
"Miss you too. I'll ring when I get back home."  
  
"All right. Bye."  
  
"Bye." I love you, Martha finished silently as she hung up the handset. She turned, her cheeks pink, and walked out of the booth. She'd decided to go for a bit of a stroll before it got too dark, but hadn't even rounded the corner when the girl from the coffee shop appeared, sitting on a bench at the entrance to a small park. The girl didn't look up until Martha's shadow crossed over her body, immediately alerting her that there was someone behind her, and she started to pick up to run.  
  
"Hey! Don't-" Martha called before she got too far ahead. The girl turned at the voice of a woman, and recognised her as the woman who'd helped to pay for her coffee. They stood watching each other for a moment until Martha smiled, reaching out her hand. "I won't hurt you. What's your name?" The girl walked forward, managing a smile.  
  
"My name's Monica," she introduced. Martha held out her hand and they shook.  
  
"I'm Martha. Shouldn't you be inside watching TV or something? Playing under the sprinkler?"  
  
"I'm not that young."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"I'm a teenager. You don't need to know how old I am specifically."  
  
"Yeah but you're in the lower half, aren't you?"  
  
"The middle half. What are you, eighteen?" Martha smiled.  
  
"Thanks. I'm somewhere around twenty, but if you're not going to be specific, neither am I. So come on, how come you're wearing what you were yesterday, and sitting on park benches?" The girl Martha now knew as Monica shrugged.  
  
"I'm not from around here. Are you?"  
  
"No, I'm helping my dad here while he's got some business to take care of. We're from Metropolis."  
  
"Oh, I've never been there," Monica stated.  
  
"Where are you from?"  
  
"Promise you won't tell? I mean, it seems as though I can trust you-"  
  
"Who am I gonna tell?"  
  
"I'm from Mexico."  
  
"Mexico?" Martha exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm looking for my real parents." Martha glanced at the girl with compassion.  
  
"They're not in Mexico?" She shook her head.  
  
"No, I'm adopted."  
  
"Have you found your real parents yet?" Monica shook her head.  
  
"No, I was uh, thinking about calling home...I can't find them."  
  
"Do your mum and dad know you're here?" Martha watched, concerned, as Monica shook her head.  
  
"No, they think I've gone to a friend's for the week."  
  
"Monica, you're young, here by yourself with no one looking out for you. I think you should go home, okay?" Monica sighed, full of emotion.  
  
"I really wanted to find them, you know, to work out who I was." Martha rested a hand on the girl's shoulder.  
  
"You said it yourself. Not having enough money to live was a sign. My guess is that you know who you are." Monica shrugged. "Listen, you have a mum and a dad in Mexico?" The girl nodded. "Well I don't have a mum, I haven't for many years, and I used to think that not having a mother that I could see or touch meant that I was no longer a complete person, but you know I was wrong."  
  
"Yeah, I get your point. Maybe. I'll see."  
  
"I'm sure they miss you."  
  
"Yeah, I know they will." Martha nodded, checking her watch.  
  
"Listen, I have to get back to the hotel before dad gets angry." She reached into her pocket where she found the hotel's card she'd taken earlier that day, out of interest, or bored, whichever way she looked at it. "This is where I'm staying, if you need any help, all right? Room 103." Monica smiled slightly.  
  
"Thanks," she replied softly, pocketing the card. "I'll see you later." Martha guessed that was her standard farewell.  
  
"Good luck. Take care okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I will..." Monica watched Martha as she headed back down the street, and didn't sit back down at the bench until the young woman was out of sight. 


	2. Part Two

Title: Out of Sight - THIS IS A SMALLVILLE / X FILES CROSSOVER Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville nor X Files, or any of the characters or plots originally associated with either show. Rating: Summary: A chance meeting 18 years ago is relived as Smallville gains two new residents / Monica and John find new lives post-Truth A/N: I've seen Mystic Pizza, and so I know what Annabeth looked like at my current age, and I can easily assume what she would have looked like pre- Mystic Pizza, but for the sake of argument, let's say I'm making it all up from scratch :D  
  
2002  
  
Monica didn't allow herself to relax until she had the coffee positioned warmly between her chilled hands. Her feet were crossed at the ankles, locking her legs around the leg of the stool at the small but trendy coffee shop.  
  
She focussed on the rugged hands that held the cup of coffee, not believing that they were hers. She'd been through so much in the past week, she was sure she had aged at least five years in the last five days.  
  
*  
  
After she and John had left the middle of nowhere, and after realising that the black helicopters weren't interested in the pursuit of the remaining FBI agents, they had pulled into a small motor home. They'd remained in the car for an hour, nevertheless, before either of them had worked up the confidence to actually walk in and book a room. Both were exhausted, but their thoughts were the same.  
  
I hope Mulder and Scully are all right.  
  
Monica and John both had no doubt that their colleagues would make it through this. They'd already survived so much. Thank God Mulder was back, however, because if it was just Scully on her own Monica knew the woman wouldn't have been able to accomplish any more, not with the still recent loss of William plaguing her mind and heart.  
  
After the brief discussion on the safety of their colleagues, particularly Skinner, whose collaboration surely would have been noticed, their thoughts turned to their own plights. FBI didn't have the same ring to it. John was willing to negotiate but Monica wouldn't have a bar of it. She couldn't trust it any more, not after all the conflicting ideals she'd had to deal with in the last year or so.  
  
Monica had been sitting up on the bathroom bench wrapped in a towel when John had tapped lightly on the door...  
  
"Mon, can I come in?"  
  
"Sure, John," Monica had replied, noticing the added hesitation when he realised she was hardly clothed. She smiled, watching him relax.  
  
"I've been thinking."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I don't think we should stay together."  
  
"That's okay," Monica had replied almost immediately. "I was going to go back to my parents anyway-"  
  
"No, Monica. I wouldn't."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What if they've already got to em? I don't want you in that kind of danger, and I don't want your parents in that danger either-"  
  
"You think... If I go back... They'll..." John sighed.  
  
"I don't even know who they is any more Mon." Monica started to feel tears of exhaustion forming behind her eyes as her temperature rose in frustration.  
  
"John, they're my parents! I can't just, never see them again."  
  
"What if you had to?" he asked. She bit her bottom lip, before shaking her head.  
  
"No, no, I can't." John took a step forward.  
  
"Mon, honey-"  
  
"I can't do it John! I can't lose everything-" John took both her hands.  
  
"Monica, we already have lost everything." Monica couldn't hold it back any longer and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. John didn't move to wipe them away, and neither did she. They needed to experience this.  
  
"I haven't, not yet- I can't split up from you, John. If I can't be with my family in Mexico, then I want to be with my family here in this room." John smiled softly, squeezing her hand.  
  
"Only for a little while," he urged, almost whispering. Monica watched him carefully, realising that he'd been thinking this plan through for the whole four hours they'd been driving, running away. He actually wanted to be separated from her. She didn't know what to say. So, in a character much unlike her usual, composed, highly focussed self, she burst into tears.  
  
As John pulled her into a hug he realised how important physical contact had always been to the friend in his arms. She was always there to lay a supportive hand on a shoulder or to squeeze his hand gently. She loved holding a friend and she loved being held. The day he'd 'returned' - according to Monica - from the "parallel universe", she'd been so shocked. A second longer and John could have sworn she would have fainted, but she didn't, she grabbed onto him and hadn't let him go for a long time. She'd explained, or tried to - John had, obviously, put up a good fight, explaining that he'd only left her in the kitchen by herself a couple of seconds - but it hadn't worked, and she'd insisted on another drawn out embrace. He didn't quite object either, enjoying the feeling that he could comfort her, making up for all he owed her since Luke's case.  
  
It wasn't often that Monica needed support. There had been that time, and several other opportunities that he hadn't taken, and then there was now. He realised that she'd stopped crying and was still sitting on the bench, holding him safely.  
  
"We'll find a computer," he began to whisper. "We'll create a special email account. We'll go the airport, get on separate flights, wait a year, then contact the account."  
  
"A year." John nodded. "Will I go to you or will you go to me?" John nudged her neck gently so that she looked back up at him, her eyes glazed with tears but as clear as ever. Beautiful. His voice stuck in his throat momentarily.  
  
"I'll find you," he stated, watching her carefully. He wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him. This is familiar, he thought suddenly, remembering that another time this feeling had struck him, he'd declined, and had almost lost her. He'd promised himself that if she'd just wake up, he'd explain it to her, explain it all, and he never had. He couldn't leave her like this. "I'll find you," he repeated, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. Monica jerked her head up before that could happen and he stopped, watching her as she moved in for a light kiss. As they pulled apart, she seemed more resolved.  
  
"Okay," she stated slowly. "Okay." Then he left her so that she could dress.  
  
*  
  
"Can I get you a refill?" the young waitress asked as Monica looked up at her from the counter.  
  
"Oh, no, it's okay thankyou," Monica replied.  
  
"Just passing through?"  
  
"Um... I'm not sure."  
  
"Well, listen, there isn't really anywhere to stay overnight and it'll start getting darker soon, but if you need a place, let me know. My aunt's moved back to Metropolis, and her house is available until we find a buyer."  
  
"Oh, uh, that won't be necessary." The waitress shrugged.  
  
"All right."  
  
"Thankyou, though."  
  
"Not a problem. Smallville's known for its hospitality."  
  
"Oh really?" A woman called, walking towards the counter. "I seem to recall that I had an amazingly difficult time getting settled-" Monica glanced over at the woman. She was much shorter than Monica, with long, orange- chestnut hair and probably blue eyes, though they were turned away from her. But there was something else. She was familiar. Monica thought she knew why.  
  
"Mrs Kent, that was a very long time ago! You got there eventually." The woman laughed.  
  
"Mmhmm," she managed to sound at least a little pissed off, but it didn't really have much of an effect. "I brought some more pie." She stacked three boxes onto the counter in front of her.  
  
"Excellent. Thankyou so much. I don't know how you do it."  
  
"Economics. Demand and supply. This is what you call an equilibrium." The young waitress laughed, taking the boxes and putting them on a shelf behind her. "While I'm here, I could use a coffee."  
  
"How's Mr Kent and Clark?"  
  
"Good. Clark's studying this afternoon."  
  
"Yeah, I know. That's what I should be doing!"  
  
"Why aren't you?"  
  
"I have this shift, that's why. No one else could take it. Luckily, Chloe's going to help me out as soon as I get home."  
  
"How's the living arrangement going?"  
  
"Really great, Mrs Kent. Chloe and I are really getting close. At least, I think so."  
  
"I'm glad, Lana."  
  
Conversation in the coffee shop stopped as a mobile phone rang from somewhere near the counter. The mystery woman from the city swore, before digging into her jacket pocket and pulling it out.  
  
"Monica Reyes," she answered. "No, don't go there... It's being disconnected anyway... No, I'm not in Washington... I can't say. NO Brad! Where's AD Skinner? Tell him we're fine. Don't ever call this number again- " She hung up quickly.  
  
Martha and Lana watched as the mystery woman held her phone in her hands. After what Martha assumed was a great internal debate, she pulled the back of the phone off and extracted the sim-card. She held it in her hand momentarily, before dumping it in her cup of coffee.  
  
After a moment she looked up at the waitress, not surprised she didn't have to make an effort to get the girl's attention.  
  
"Could I please get another cup?"  
  
"Absolutely," the young girl who the woman had called Lana replied. "Would you like me to uh...dispose of-" She reached for the other cup.  
  
"Thankyou, yes."  
  
Monica noticed that no sooner had the young waitress disappeared to the back of the restaurant, another young girl swooped at the counter.  
  
"Mrs Kent! Great to find you here." The girl had stopped between Monica and the woman, and when she turned to answer the girl, Monica got a good look at her face, recognising her instantly. Martha's eyes wavered off the petite blonde to Monica, who smiled and looked back at the table. The girl somehow got a message from the look and turned to Monica.  
  
"Oh hi! You're new here," she stated matter-of-factly. Monica looked up, smiling.  
  
"Uh, yes." The girl reached out her hand.  
  
"Chloe Sullivan. If you haven't met her already this is the illustrious Martha Kent." The look on Monica's face must have given something away, but the girl turned back to the woman. "Mrs Kent I need to ask you a couple of questions."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"This is purely hypothetical, for research, I thought you might know."  
  
"Go ahead Chloe." Mrs Kent smiled. Chloe put an exercise book in front of Mrs Kent and handed her a pencil.  
  
"I lost ten thousand dollars."  
  
"Ah," Mrs Kent replied, looking over the fabricated books. "Uh... Well... At first glance it looks as though it's been put into these accounts here, but my guess is that someone's messing with it," she pointed to it. "And in which case, I'd notify the authorities."  
  
"That's so obvious!"  
  
"They usually are. Accounting was never my best subject. Why- You don't take accounting... They don't even offer it here. What are you doing?"  
  
"Well, this isn't exactly a class exercise..." Martha took a closer look at the figures.  
  
"Chloe, whose records are these?"  
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
"Chloe-"  
  
"Okay I might have found them...somewhere. I'm sorry Mrs Kent, I was just curious, and now I have proof."  
  
"I wouldn't call that proof Chloe. Just because the figures don't balance." They were cut off as the girl named Lana returned and got the mystery woman another coffee.  
  
"Chloe, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Just asking Mrs Kent a thing or two about...that thing."  
  
"Oh, right. Sure. Hey, I'm on a break in five. Start quizzing."  
  
"To be honest, Lana, I haven't done that much study."  
  
"What? Chloe not studying for her exam tomorrow?"  
  
"I have been researching, if that matters."  
  
"How can you research for it? All the notes are, well, all the notes!" Chloe laughed.  
  
"I kind of got off track." She thrust a piece of paper in Lana's face. "You'll never guess what I found." Lana read the headline of the article aloud.  
  
"Fire in FBI Basement, AD speaks of Spooky End." Lana, Chloe and Martha all heard the small gasp coming from the mystery stranger, and Lana handed the information back to Chloe. "I'll see you in three minutes."  
  
"I'll be here. Oh, there's Jason. I'll be right back." She turned and walked off to talk to another classmate. Monica looked sideways and caught this Mrs Kent watching her.  
  
"I know Chloe introduced me, but I think I should. I'm Martha," she stated, reaching out her hand.  
  
"I know," Monica replied, shaking her hand and releasing it gently. "You don't remember me, do you?" Martha hesitated, before shaking her head.  
  
"No, I'm sorry. You're from Metropolis?" Monica shook her head.  
  
"Mexico. Monica Reyes."  
  
"Uh... Hi," Martha stated, a look of surprise and realisation crossing her face. "Oh wow," she whispered.  
  
"You remember meeting a very young and stupid girl in Texas eighteen years- "  
  
"I certainly do." Martha got off her stool and sat one closer. "You look so different!"  
  
"The more I think about that, the more I disagree. Tired, crumpled and sitting here drinking coffee-" Martha laughed and Monica managed a smile.  
  
"What are you doing in Smallville?"  
  
"I don't know. I was driving and decided this was where I would stop. I didn't know you were here, of course-"  
  
"No, of course not." Martha bit her bottom lip. "You need a place to stay overnight?"  
  
"Oh no, I couldn't be an imposition-"  
  
"No trouble, but let's finish this coffee, eh?" Monica nodded, smiling.  
  
"All right."  
  
*  
  
"The Talon, Lana speaking," Lana answered when the phone rang half an hour later.  
  
"What were the political decisions that led to the declaration of the First World War?" Chloe was asking in the background. Since Lana was on the phone, Chloe directed the question more to herself.  
  
"Schlieffen Plan," Martha replied halfway through a conversation with Monica.  
  
"Thanks Mrs Kent," Chloe laughed as Lana handed Mrs Kent the phone, stretching the cord across to her.  
  
"It's Mr Kent," she stated. Martha checked her watch, as she answered.  
  
"Hi Jonathan."  
  
"How's the coffee?"  
  
"Great! You want me to bring you home anything?"  
  
"I thought you were delivering pies?"  
  
"I was, but I ran into a, uh, a friend." Martha smiled over at Monica. "She's going to come to dinner tonight." Monica started to protest but Martha shook her head, holding a finger to her lips.  
  
"Need me to do anything?"  
  
"Nope. It won't take me long to put it together once we get home. But if you like, you can whip up some pasta sauce?"  
  
"Sure. So you're on your way home then?" Martha looked at the last quarter of coffee left in the cup.  
  
"Uh...yeah," she stated, picking up the cup and downing the rest of it quickly. "We'll be right there. Oh and don't leave Clark alone with dinner, all right?"  
  
"I don't think that'll be a problem sweetie."  
  
"He still working?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I can hear loud music from the kitchen... He said he was taking a break last time I saw him. Probably finished the study in five minutes. It's been a damn long break, I can tell you that. I'll see you soon then."  
  
"Sure Jonathan. Love you."  
  
"See ya." Martha handed the phone back to Lana.  
  
"Poor man's lonely," she explained to Monica. "Come on, we gotta go get dinner ready." Monica handed Martha a bill as she added one of her own and handed them to Lana. "Good luck for your exam tomorrow," Mrs Kent said to Chloe and Lana. "Don't stay up too late."  
  
"We won't," they echoed, saying goodbye and walking out.  
  
"Did you get any of the conversation?" Lana asked Chloe as the two older women left.  
  
"Not much. It was pretty general. No idea where she's from, what she does. Kept saying she'd tell her later, somewhere quieter."  
  
"Maybe they're related," Lana mused.  
  
"Secretive enough to be."  
  
"Or she just knows her country town."  
  
"Or that," Chloe agreed. "I gotta go but I'll see you when you get home."  
  
* 


End file.
